


Pad Thai and Talking

by jooliewrites



Category: How to Get Away with Murder
Genre: Cheating, Episode: s01e11 Best Christmas Ever, M/M, Minor Angst, Relationship Discussions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-11
Updated: 2015-02-11
Packaged: 2018-03-11 17:12:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3331820
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jooliewrites/pseuds/jooliewrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They’re out to dinner, at this horrible Thai place they discovered during those first few months, when Oliver's ex stops by their table. </p>
<p>+</p>
<p>A future-ish, post 1x11, Oliver-centric fic</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pad Thai and Talking

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!  
> -Jules xoxo

They’re out to dinner, at this horrible Thai place they discovered during those first few months, when it happens.

Way too late one night back then, Connor dragged Oliver out of bed with a “You have no food in your house” and off they went. Wandering through the darkened streets of Oliver’s neighborhood, talking about everything and nothing at all, they found it. It was the only place with an open kitchen for blocks and they entered with a careless shrug of “How bad can it be?” In truth? Awful. The service was abysmal, the food almost inedible, and the prices astronomical. But no one said anything when Connor and Oliver couldn’t keep their hands off each other in the back booth and their server didn’t bat an eye when they came back two days later to do it all over again.

And that’s how the Thai place with the worst Thai food either of them had ever had becomes their place.

Oliver hasn’t been back since the break up. Connor ordered takeout once but he couldn’t bring himself to actually eat it. The greasy bag sat unopened on his counter all night while Connor stared at it and thought, for the first time in a long time, of getting blind drunk.

Things have been moving slow the past few weeks. Movie nights in. Casual nights out with Oliver’s friends. Holding hands. Light pecks to a cheek. Nothing like that night in Oliver’s kitchen. They’re both going slow. Learning to trust again.

When Oliver casually brings up going out to their place with the simple text: “I was thinking Thai food tonight,” Connor tries not to get his hopes up. It doesn’t mean anything. It doesn’t mean he’s been forgiven. It doesn’t mean they are back together.

But then at dinner, Oliver genuinely smiles at one of Connor’s stupid work stories, he keeps brushing Connor’s hand with his and their feet keep _casually_ bumping into each other. The flicker of hope Connor left burning explodes into an inferno. He wants to laugh and cry. He wants to slide over into Oliver’s side of the booth, wrap his arms around Oliver, and never let go. He wants to bury his face in Oliver’s neck and just breathe in.

Connor wants to do so much but doesn’t get a chance to do any of it when a stranger stops by their booth.

“Hey. Long time,” the man says in greeting and Oliver looks up and freezes. He smiles up at the man but it’s his fake smile. The smile he uses when a friend says something moronic or their server gets his order wrong for the third time. It’s all thin lips and no teeth; nothing like his real smile. Oliver’s real smile is gummy and big and he gets little crinkles around his eyes. His real smile makes him look younger and free. Connor made Oliver smile like that not even five minutes ago. Connor wants this guy to leave so he can try and make Oliver smile like that again.

“Oh my god. Hi.” Oliver’s tone is forced and he half stands while the man half bends so they can hug. It’s fleeting but the man’s hand lingers, almost cupping Oliver’s cheek, before he pulls it back at the last second. Oliver leans away and sits up a little taller before asking, “What are you doing here?”

“Just out to dinner.” He turns to gesture back to his table and Connor catches the hint of gray at his temple. If he were being fair, he’d say the man looks distinguished and mature. He’s say the laugh lines around his mouth and crow’s feet near his eyes give him a certain gravitas that’s attractive, if you’re into that sort of thing. However, Connor isn’t inclined to be fair to someone who makes Oliver so obviously uncomfortable so he thinks this ass just looks old. The other man he’s with, the one at their table, is younger, around their age. He waves to Oliver and it’s nervous. He’s fiddling a little with his glass and his crossed legs bounce under the table. Connor looks back up at the man in front of Oliver to catch the end of his sentence. “—Couldn’t resist. It just looked so adorable from outside. We figured what the hell.”

“What the hell,” Oliver echoes in a daze. He looks to Connor and does a slight double take, as if he’d forgotten Connor was there. “Oh—god—sorry—this is Connor. Connor, this is Joel.”

Connor holds up a hand and puts on his best shit-eating grin. “Pleasure.”

“Nice to meet you.” Joel’s grin is just as fake as he turns to point back to his table again. “And that’s Drew.”

Connor throws Drew a salute and they’re all silent for a beat. Connor opens his mouth to say something to break the tension, what he doesn’t have a clue, when the server bringing out their food saves them.

“I’ll just get out of your hair.” Joel steps back so she’s able to serve Connor and Oliver. “It was really good to see you Oliver.”

Joel lifts his hand for another hug, or maybe a handshake, when Oliver turns away to grab a napkin. “Good seeing you too,” he says as he lays the napkin in his lap. “The four of us should have dinner or something some time.”

“Yeah—that’d be—that’d be great. I’ll talk to Drew. We’ll call you.”

Oliver just smiles as Joel retreats and turns to his meal to pick up a fork. Following Oliver’s lead, Connor does the same and they’re silent for a bite. Connor opens his mouth but Oliver cuts him off. “Don’t.” Tension radiates through his shoulders as he chews his Pad Thai. “Just don’t.”

They eat in silence for a few moments more before Oliver breaks. “Can you just tell a story or something?”

“What about?”

“Anything. Just—just talk about anything.”

Oliver looks up and his eyes are haunted. Connor tells the story of how he and his sister convinced their cousin that their grandparents’ house was haunted one Christmas and Oliver laughs too hard at the punch line.

+

They wave goodbye to Joel and Drew as they leave the restaurant and walk down to the overhang of a bodega at the corner. They pause for a moment while Oliver wraps his scarf tighter around his neck and Connor slips on his gloves. The strain between them is palpable. Connor’s trying to figure out if there really is a good way to ask ‘Who the hell was that guy’ while still being respectful when Oliver speaks up. “Want to walk for a little?” His tone is cautious and meek and Connor hates it. “I know it’s cold but—”

“No. It’s not that bad out. Let’s walk.”

Oliver nods and leads the way down the block. At the corner, he turns and they head into a park. It’s well lit and empty and the pace Oliver sets once they’re on the path is slower than a crawl.

“I met him in college,” Oliver begins as they meander around a lake.

“Oliver. It’s fine. You really don’t—”

“No. I know.” He looks over the water before looking to Connor. “I think you should know. I want you to know. And anyways, it’s not really that interesting—”

“Oliver.”

Connor’s reprimanding tone makes Oliver grin a little before beginning again. “So anyway, I met him in college. He was older, working on his PhD—”

“In what?”

“Comparative literature.” And if Connor didn’t hate the douche already that just sealed the deal. “So he was older and I was young—God was I young—and naïve and stupid—”

“Oliver.”

“What?”

"Don’t call yourself stupid.”

“You haven’t heard the rest of it yet.”

“Still.”

“Fine. I was young and naïve and not stupid but you can figure out where this is going, right?” Oliver gives a resigned sigh. “He just—he just became everything. I hadn’t really ever dated anyone before. I mean—don’t get me wrong—I had fun. Hell, I was nineteen with a fake and was finally around people who didn’t give a fuck that I liked cock—I had more than fun.” Oliver smiles, remembering, and Connor wants to hear more about Oliver’s party days. He wants to hear about Oliver’s adventures sneaking into clubs and flirting with guys and being young. Connor wants to hear anything that isn’t this story because he doesn’t think he’s going to like this story.

“You know that terrible cliché? You spot him across a crowded bar and just know.” Connor nods along. “That’s how it was. I just _knew_ , the way you can know when you’re that young. Saw him across the way and knew I wanted him. One dance and I wanted the whole night. I turned over to look at him the next morning and knew—knew I wanted him for the rest of my life.” Oliver swallows hard.

“I fell so hard. He had this way. This way of looking at you like—like you were the center of everything. He was so smart and well traveled and cultured. And he looked at me like I was interesting and funny and—and _worth it._ ” He shakes his head at his own past foolishness as they keep walking around the still water. “No one ever made me feel like I was worth it before. It—it was addicting. I never wanted to stop."

Oliver pauses on the bridge and they lean with their backs against the rail. Oliver thinking and Connor waiting. “The first time he cheated on me I just forgave him. I didn’t ask any questions. I didn’t want to know. He just—he just made a mistake and he was sorry and that was that.”

Oliver doesn’t continue so Connor does. “He kept doing it, didn’t he?”

Oliver just nods and then. “Actually, we kept doing it to each other. If he could, then I could too.” Oliver starts walking slowly again and Connor languishes along next to him. “It was funny, almost. We never talked about it. Never. It was the giant elephant in the room our entire relationship. I’d come home smelling like someone else and he never said a word. I’d cross paths with guys coming out of his apartment and just nod at them like it was nothing, which it was. It was all just nothing. I—this is really gross—when it got really bad, I wouldn’t brush my teeth or anything before walking back in and kissing him right on the mouth. I didn’t want to wash them away because wanted him to be able _taste_ them. Taste whomever I had spent the night with. How fucked is that?” He rubs a hand over his eyes and covers his mouth before running it up through his hair. “We stayed together and got more serious. Moved in together and met each other’s families. Talked about getting engaged and buying a house together and—fuck—and adopting a kid. Then we’d go out on the weekend to fuck strangers.”

They’re silent as they walk the curve of the lake again. “Can I—” Connor clears his throat before starting again. “Can I ask—how did it—?”

“End.”

“Yeah.”

“He slept with Drew.” Oliver exhales a deep breath. “Drew—Drew was my best friend. We met freshman orientation and just clicked, you know? We lived together in college. I introduced him to his boyfriend. He was there for every falling out with Joel. He knew how fucked up everything was. And then—I mean I wanted him to be our kid’s godfather. And then he slept with him. I mean—he knew—they—they both knew—and I—” Oliver stops to press a palm to his eyes and wipe the tears away. When did he start crying? “I left after that. Packed my stuff and just left. It was okay for me to put up with that shit but I couldn’t bring a kid into that so I left. I remember it was a Thursday and it was so sunny and I was pissed because I left my sunglasses in his car. I walked out on seven years like it was nothing but was pissed about Ray-Bans.”

Connor keeps quiet as Oliver leads them to a bench. The wood is freezing beneath him but he doesn’t say a word. Just waiting for Oliver to continue.

“After that, I decided to be a little slutty for a while. I told myself I was out of a shitty relationship and lost my best friend all in one swoop so I deserved to have fun. But you know? It really wasn’t that fun. I was just lost. So lost. So much of my identity was wrapped up in being half of Joel and Oliver that I—I didn’t know what to do.”

"How’d you figure it out?”

“Really shitty rebound sex. And lots of it.” Oliver smiles at his terrible attempt at a joke but Connor isn’t smiling when he looks over. “Therapy. And lots of it. Taking a break from the whole dating thing for a little while. Learning who I am. Figuring out how to be alone. That took a while.” He snorts a little at that. “God, I sound like Oprah.” He leans back on the bench and crosses his ankles. “Eventually started dating again. Slowly, nothing too major to report. Reconnected with friends that realized they always liked me better than Joel. Moved—twice. Met you. The rest you know.” Looking up at the night sky, Oliver takes a deep breath of the cold, night air. “So that’s it. That’s the whole sad tale. Told you it wasn’t all that interesting.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Connor whispers, shifting a little closer to Oliver and placing a tentative hand on his knee.

Oliver huffs. “It’s not original at the very least.” He waits a breath, still looking up to the sky. “I’m not going through that again Connor.”

Connor looks at Oliver’s profile. “I know.”

“I’m stronger than that now. You pull any of that shit ever again, we’re done.” Oliver turns to meet Connor’s gaze.

“Understood.”

“Don’t joke.”

“I’m not.” His gaze never wavers. “I know Oliver. Never ever again.”

“Good.” Oliver turns look at Connor’s hand resting on his knee before standing up and reaching down a hand. “Come on.”

"Really?” Connor stands to take it.

“Yeah.” Oliver squeezes Connor’s hand in his. “Let’s go home. I’m tired.”

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://ramblesandreblogs.tumblr.com)


End file.
